Fifty Quills
by Ande Lawerence
Summary: She looked like grace. KBOW
1. Chapter 1: Doubt In

This is a short fic for the 100Quills Challenge over at livejournal. It's also posted onmy livejournal. Be sure to check it out :). I'll be posting the rest of the challenge entries over there and I may post them here too, or just the ones I like. Haven't decided yet!

* * *

Doubt In

She looked like grace. Oliver wasn't exactly sure what that meant but as he stared at the little eleven-year old with the dirty blonde hair and the oddly delicate features, he couldn't help but think that if grace had a face, it would be hers. Undoubtedly, it was a mixture of fatigue and boredom that was causing his brain to think such strange things. He had been up quite late the previous night re-reading_Quidditch Through the Ages_ for the one hundredth time. It was a superstitious ritual of sorts that he partook in before the start of every term.

Of course, this time it was different. This time, he was captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The youngest captain in twenty-five years. When he had received the letter in the post, the one telling him that he was to be the next Gryffindor Quidditch captain, he had been convinced that it must have been some sort of joke, a cruel plot dreamt up by the Weasley twins for their own enjoyment. When he realized that the letter was the real thing, it had been simultaneously the best and most ominous moment of his young life.

He would be replacing the great Charlie Weasley. The best Quidditch player Gryffindor had seen in years, possibly ever. Charlie Weasley, the Seeker who had caught the Snitch the most consecutive times in school history. Charlie Weasley, who could play for England with the drop of the hat, if he wasn't so caught up with those ruddy dragons. Charlie Weasley, who had been Oliver's Captain and mentor for the past three years. Charlie Weasley, who in his seventh and final year, would be replaced by Oliver Wood, the fourth-year Keeper with a few exceptional saves and no experience.

The news had spread at a dizzying pace, so that by the time Oliver had boarded the train at the start of term, he had heard his name in what seemed like thirty different conversations as he made his way through the train.

"McGonagall must be losing it in her old age. Oliver Wood instead of Charlie Weasley? Honestly, what was she _thinking_?"

"Wood? He plays Chaser right?"

"I think Hufflepuff's got a serious chance at the Cup this year, what with Ravenclaw losing half of its squad and Gryffindor replacing Weasley with that fourth-year."

"Oliver_who_?"

At one point, Corinne McDougal, a third-year Ravenclaw busybody with a penchant for gossiping, opened Oliver's compartment door and stuck her head in.

"Have you heard?" she asked eagerly.

Oliver looked up from the final pages he had left of _Quidditch through the Ages_. "Heard what?"

"Charlie Weasley's been replaced by Oliver Wood!" Corrine said with relish, mistaking Oliver's dumbfounded stare for shock at McGonagall's stupidity. "I _know_ it's scandalous isn't it?"

"Corrine," Percy Weasley said, setting his own book, _Minister or Man?_ aside and fixing her with a stern glare. "Gossiping is a trivial pursuit that you must learn to rid yourself of. If I were a prefect, I would most certainly dock points."

"Well it's a good think you're not then," Corrine said huffily as she shut the door loudly.

Oliver felt his face redden as Percy and Oliver's friend, a fellow Gryffindor fourth-year, Thomas Andrews stared at him.

"Thanks," Oliver mumbled as he looked back down at his book, trying to leave it at that.

Of course, Percy Weasley always had a word to say about everything.

"I'm sure McGonagall had some logic behind choosing you over Charlie," Percy said knowledgably. "I can't for the life of me discern what that reasoning is, but I'm sure she has it."

Percy did little to reassure him.

Thomas grinned bracingly, "Listen, people don't like change. They're used to Charlie. You just have to show them that sometimes, change can be a good thing. That and you better pray like hell Gryffindor wins their first match."\

Oliver knew Thomas was trying to make him feel better, but all he had succeeded in doing was make him feel more anxious, if possible.

Charlie Weasley, for his part, had taken the whole thing in stride. He had found Oliver shortly before the Sorting and shaken his hand, congratulating him jovially.

"Never really had the head for strategy," Charlie said grinning broadly. "S'pose it might be a bit hard taking orders from you, but you'll make a great captain, Wood."

Oliver found it difficult to agree and it seemed that most everyone else felt similarly. The entire trip to Hogwarts and even as he was seated in the Great Hall, Oliver felt the cloak of doubt that surrounded him in the unconvinced glances and whispered disbelief.

So in an effort to quell his own anxieties, he began watching the Sorting with a halfhearted interest, passing the time by distractedly predicting which of the first years had the potential to become future Quidditch players. It served to provide him some sort of entertainment during the ever-boring Sorting.

Oliver decided that "Adams, Sarah" looked like she might do well as a Chaser, though she was a bit stringy for his liking.

"Addler, Eric" was stout and strongly built. He could possibly make a fine Hufflepuff beater one day.

"Anderson, Frank" looked entirely too twitchy to ever pursue a career in Quidditch.

And when McGonagall called out "Bell, Katherine", Oliver couldn't help but examine the small girl curiously. She walked towards the hat cautiously. Her face held a hint of fear, but she had her shoulders squared in a determined manner that was a nice contrast to old Frank's twitchy nerves. She seemed entirely too mature to be a first year, the way she situated herself properly upon the stool, crossing her ankles carefully. She placed the Sorting Hat atop her head and made it seem like it was much more than a beat-up, talking hat. She had all the fine manners of an extraordinarily well-trained pureblooded witch. But Oliver knew he had never heard the surname Bell amongst the old wizarding families.

The hat sat upon her head for a few seconds before calling out "Gryffindor!" loudly. Oliver watched as the girl smiled for a brief second before removing the hat and quickly making her way towards the Gryffindor table where she was welcomed heartily.

Her build was a bit on the small side, it was too slender for any position other than Seeker. But Quidditch was a rough sport, and this girl looked distinctly breakable. Games that could last several hours, regardless of how terrible the weather was, Bludgers to the head, burly Slytherins whose greatest joy was causing bodily harm, all of these were very real aspects of Quidditch which Oliver sincerely doubted she would be able to handle. No "Katherine Bell" was better off on the ground. Oliver threw one last interested glance in her direction before he turned back to the sorting in time for "Chang, Cho"

* * *

Hope you liked. I decided to participate in the challenge because I am suffering from some serious writer's block and I wanted to take a break from multichaptered stories for awhile. I'll probably post some of the other fics I write for this challenge here and I will definitely be posting them on my lj. The rest of the entries will probably be related but not necessarily continuous, so this is basically a one-shot!

Make sure to REVIEW!


	2. Chapter 2: Who?

Hi all! I couldn't resist a little drabble sequel on how Katie sort of meets Oliver for the first time.Be warned though, there's not too much Oliver.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Who?**

The identity of one changes with how one perceives reality

Vithu Jeyaloganathan

* * *

Katie adjusted her robes for the one hundredth time. She knew that they were already perfectly fine. Eleanor, the Bell family maid, had ironed the robes so well that even now, nearly ten hours since she had put left home; they hung perfectly straight and without a wrinkle.

"Well, if you are going to go to some nonsense school," Eleanor had said grumpily as she hunched over the ironing table, "I'll at least have you looking smart for your first day. Katherine Elizabeth, you put down that biscuit this instant!"

Katie looked around the cavernous Great Hall and felt a sudden pang of longing for Eleanor's sharp tongue and warm biscuits. Her fascination with the talking hat and the enchanted ceiling was quickly being replaced by a feeling of overwhelming homesickness. But it wouldn't do to dwell on this; it would be quite sometime before she would return home.

Katie gazed wearily at the children around her. She knew she would have to make friends but truth be told; Katie hadn't ever really had any friends her own age. Growing up, she had always had the best of everything: the best tutors, the best toys, the best dresses; which were all very well and nice, but it had been a very solitary existence. There hadn't been many children that her mother had deemed suitable enough to be a playmate of Katherine Elizabeth Bell. She was a Bell after all, and Bells took careful consideration when choosing those they would associate themselves with.

Of course, Katie was no longer just a Bell. She was also a _witch _now

Katie watched as a lanky fellow took a seat across from her. He had just been sorted and was clearly ecstatic at having been placed in Gryffindor. Katie had no prior knowledge of what any of these houses meant and therefore could not share in his joy. She instead politely congratulated him before turning back to the Sorting.

The boy, however, was in the mood to talk.

"Name's Cormac. Cormac McLaggen," the boy called Cormac said jovially, obviously still thrilled at the outcome of the Sorting. He continued talking before Katie had a chance to get a word in. "I'm quite happy I got put in Gryffindor. Aren't you?"

Once again Cormac continued as if he hadn't even asked a question. Katie found this all to be very rude and was quickly becoming annoyed. "I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be half-bad, or Hufflepuff. But _Slytherin_, I think I'd have to kill myself."

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why, exactly, it would be so bad to be placed in Slytherin. The Sorting Hat _had_ considered placing her in Slytherin for about five seconds before deciding there was no doubt she belonged in Gryffindor. Katie refrained from asking however, she did not particularly like this boy and she didn't want to talk to him any more than what was necessary.

Cormac continued, hardly paying attention to whether or not Katie was actually listening. "Bunch of slimy gits if you ask me. You-know-who himself was in Slytherin, did you know? All their pureblooded garbage, honestly, don't you think they're crazy?"

At this point, Cormac finally stopped talking and looked at her expectantly, clearly wanting her opinion. Unfortunately, Katie hadn't understood a word of the nonsense that had come from Cormac's mouth.

Of course, she wasn't about to let him know this. She drew herself up and glared at him icily, "Pardon?"

Cormac was clearly perplexed by Katie's sudden change in demeanor. She watched as he examined her closely before fear appeared in his eyes, "Say—you're—you're not a pureblood are you?" he asked nervously.

Katie felt her patience wearing thin, "A _what_?"

Cormac stared at her, "A pureblood," he repeated incredulously, "You know, are all your family witches and wizards? But if you don't know what a pureblood is than you obviously can't be one. So you must be a Muggle-born."

Katie didn't particularly like that fact that Cormac seemed to know so much more than she did. She also didn't like the way he said Muggle-born like it had a meaning other than that her parents were born without magic.

"I'll have you know," Katie said, raising an eyebrow, "that m_y _father is Harold Bell. _The_ Harold Bell." She looked at Cormac expectantly, waiting for the inevitable widening of his eyes and soft gasp that always occurred whenever she mentioned who her father was.

Cormac stared at her blankly for a few seconds before frowning, "Who?"

"Harold Bell," Katie repeated, this time a little louder.

Cormac shook his head, his brow furrowed, "Nope, sorry, never heard of him."

A chubby boy to Cormac's right lit up. "Say, isn't he that Muggle politician who drowned in the bathtub last year---"

"_No" _Katie said vehemently, annoyance evident in her voice. How could they not know who her father was? Katie was at a lost. This had never happened before.

Cormac turned to an older-looking dark haired boy sitting next to him.

"Have _you_ heard of him?" Cormac asked. The boy was clearly a few years older than Cormac and herself, and he ignored the question completely. Katie found this to be a bit rude though she secretly wished she could ignore Cormac too. The older boy was staring at the Sorting (which had progressed to "Welynn, Leanne") and muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "beaters need bigger arms than that".

Cormac gave the boy an odd look before turning back to Katie.

He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered quietly, "_Say_, I think that's Oliver Wood."

To Katie's chagrin, Cormac's idea of a whisper was quite loud and she did not doubt that the boy called Oliver Wood had heard them whispering about him. However, if he had heard them, he refrained from mentioning it. He was still staring at the first-years being Sorted with rapt attention.

Katie leaned in towards Cormac, "It is rude to whisper about those who are in your presence," she hissed at him. "Now if you will excuse me, I would like to watch the remainder of the Sorting in peace."

"Sortings are boring," Cormac said unconcernedly. "Who's Harold Bell?"

But luckily, the Headmaster Professor Dumbledore chose that exact moment to stand and say a few words before the feast began. Katie halfheartedly listened to his words, her mind swimming with confusing thoughts.

The truth of the matter was she had no idea who exactly her father was. That is to say, she knew he was Harold Bell; the man who came home from his office by the time Katie was tucked into bed and whose main conversation with her consisted mostly of greetings and inquiries about how her Latin studies were coming along. But Katie knew nothing about what exactly it was that he did. What she did know was that he worked in a very tall building, that he was very important, and that normally, mentioning Harold Bell was her father elicited shocked gasps or at the very least, interested stares.

It was then that a peculiar idea began to form in her mind. Maybe, she would no longer be receiving any gasps or stares. Maybe, this was a different sort of place. A place where the weight of who she was and more importantly, who her father was, were inconsequential. A place where she could be whoever she wanted to be. There would be no expectations. Katie wondered how she should feel about this. If truth be told, in the pit of her stomach she felt a bit of excitement mixed with a large dose of anxiousness.

"None of us have ever heard of Harold Bell," Cormac said loudly, as more food than the Bell's served at even their largest dinner parties magically appeared on the table. "Who is he?"

Katie looked at him for a moment, irked by his pestering and slightly confused.

"Who is Harold Bell?" Cormac questioned again, with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"He's…" Katie trailed off, unsure of what to say. Did it really matter? "He's no one."

"No one?" asked Cormac quizzically. "Isn't he your father?"

Katie was thoroughly exhausted by Cormac's questioning. "He's no one," she repeated firmly, doing her best to imitate Eleanor's "no-more-discussion" voice.

Cormac shrugged, "Well who are you then?"

Katie straightened up and opened her mouth give the answer she had been trained to give to this question since she was five-years old. _Katherine Elizabeth Bell_. But something, perhaps the same something that had put the idea in her head that she no longer had to be just a Bell, stopped her. Katherine Elizabeth Bell was quite a mouthful. And the other children usually rolled their eyes and sometimes even laughed whenever Katie gave this answer.

Katie looked to see that Cormac, the round-faced boy who had thought her father was a drowned politician, and a new pale blonde girl were all staring at her interestedly. The older boy, Oliver Wood, was ignoring them completely and was now staring fixedly at the Slytherin table while shoveling food into his mouth. _What an odd boy_, Katie thought to herself before turning back to the first-years in front of her.

Katie knew she found Cormac to be quite tiresome, but the round-faced boy and the blonde girl seemed nice enough. Maybe even friendly. And Katherine Elizabeth wouldn't do if she planned on making new friends.

She smiled slowly.

"I'm Katie, Katie Bell."

* * *

Sigh! I hope you like. It took me so long to write!! I meant to sign up for the 100quills Challenge over at LJ so I could just do some laidback writing for fun. Of course, I have to turn it into a multi-chapter story like thing. But I'm still keeping each chapter short which makes it a little easier. Let me know what you think!

REVIEW!!!!!


End file.
